Pure
by Connie Welsh
Summary: Benny had never been able to put it into words, what Purgatory felt like. Dean called it raw, pure. They were as good words as any, especially the first time Benny had pinned Dean down, the hunter's eyes blazing with adrenaline and his knife at Benny's throat.


Benny had never been able to put it into words, what Purgatory felt like.

Dean called it raw, pure. They were as good words as any, especially the first time Benny had pinned Dean down, the hunter's eyes blazing with adrenaline and his knife at Benny's throat.

Benny's mouth twitched up at the corners as he pressed in anyway, the blade pressing a sharp line against his neck.

"What ya doin', Benny?" Dean growled lowly, and Benny could feel Dean's heartbeat- already fast and loud from the fight they had just been in- go up another notch.

"Think you know, brotha," Benny rumbled with a breathy laugh, and Dean's jaw tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening.

"Tell me t'stop, Dean," Benny challenged softly, pressing closer still, but never feeling an ounce of pressure from Dean's hand on the blade, "C'mon, tell me."

Dean's eyes widened fractionally as Benny dared to press his hips against Dean's, a small grind where he could feel Dean getting hard, and Benny's grin widened at the physical assurance.

He pressed forward until his mouth hovered over Dean's, the blade still between them, and it had to be pressing on Dean's throat too, but still the hunter didn't speak.

"Fuck," Dean finally growled, pushing up to close the distance between them and Benny moaned at the heat of Dean's mouth on his, the kiss as rough and hard as the weapon between them.

Benny wasted no time, pushing his hand down to grind his palm against Dean's cock; a rough, tight pressure that had Dean's hips surging into the touch with a harsh sound in his throat.

"Easy, brotha," Benny murmured against Dean's mouth, "Don' want t'attract an audience, do we?"

Dean shook his head minutely, hand tightening on Benny's shoulder and fingers flexing on the knife handle in Benny's peripheral vision. Benny hummed, hand still working Dean's cock through his pants as his own pressed hard against his restraining zipper, throbbing in time to the sound of Dean's heartbeat in his ears.

"Think I can make y'come jus' from this, Dean?" Benny breathed, "Make y'ruin your pants?"

Benny's undead heart raced faster as suddenly the pressure of the knife increased, almost enough to break skin.

"I'll fuckin' kill you if you don't get your hands on me," Dean threatened in a dark growl, and Benny laughed, warm and thick.

"Easy, brotha," Benny grinned, "I won' leave ya wantin', y'can be sure 'bout that."

"Big fuckin' talk," Dean sneered, and Benny's eyes narrowed at the challenge.

"Oh darlin', y'have no idea," he purred, mashing their lips back together, stealing any sounds he could from Dean's mouth as he slid down his other hand to work on Dean's fastenings, as promised.

Dean groaned sharply when Benny slid a hand into his pants, murmuring something that sounded like "Cold!" into the vampire's mouth.

Benny ignored him in favor of gripping Dean's cock in a firm hold, stroking slow and tight as his palm warmed from Dean's body heat.

He let go only long enough to undo his own trousers, finally alleviating the pressure on his own hardness and taking them both in hand.

The groaned in union at the feel, Dean's hips twisting up and a hard groan in his throat that Benny swore he could feel vibrate through the blade.

His free hand went to Dean's hair, using it as leverage to tilt his head back, stretching that elegant, warm throat out. Dean's breathing got rapid, fear starting to creep in and fingers pressing the knife upward slightly, but Benny behaved himself; dragging his lips along the underside of Dean's jaw only.

Benny groaned as precome oozed from the tip of Dean's cock, so fucking _hot_ as his hand smeared it down both their shafts.

Dean whined when he thumbed his slit, coaxing more from the tip to smear down their cocks, and Benny shivered as Dean spread his knees wider and dug his heels into the dirt to thrust up, his hand going from Benny's shoulder to his ass. Benny's hips stuttered at the rough squeeze of Dean's hand, pleasure sparking up his spine and making him moan.

Dean was trying to suppress the pleasured whine that was building in his throat, hips jerking up roughly and Benny forewent trying to keep his hand between them. He shoved his hands under Dean's ass instead, pulling his hips against Benny's in a tight grind.

He rolled his hips, hard and rough, like he was inside Dean already, like he could get that much deeper under Dean's skin, and he gave a hot grunt at the idea.

Suddenly Dean tensed, back arching as he spilled between them with a harsh sound. The instant Dean's blazingly hot come spurted across the tip of his cock, Benny was done for, orgasm sizzling down his spine.

The sudden tang of fresh blood in the air made his eyes snap open, and he whined at the thin, welling line of red across Dean's throat; the result of the blade finally pressing too hard in the throes of orgasm.

Benny was grabbing the knife from Dean's lax hand and tossing it aside before he even thought about it, mouth going to Dean's throat.

Dean grabbed at him in a panic, adrenaline skyrocketing and gasping with fear. Benny moaned as he ran his tongue over the thin, red line; Dean's fresh, living blood like fine wine after decades of drinking muddy water.

He didn't bite, his fangs still tucked safely inside his gums; he took only what Dean's body was offering until the bleeding stopped.

Dean was trembling and panting, but didn't say a word until Benny pulled away, licking his lips and pressing his temple against Dean's.

"Ok?" the vampire asked gruffly, and Dean snorted, pushing at him to get off.

"Not your fucking 'darling', asshole," he growled in answer instead, and Benny chuckled as he pulled away and got up, clothes still in disarray as he held a hand down to Dean to pull him to his feet.

"'Course not," Benny agreed amiably with a grin, beginning to fix his clothes.

Dean scowled at his shirt, where flecks of white were spattered across the dark fabric, "I hate you."

"Wha're you talkin' about? Looks good on you," Benny grinned, stepping up and pressing an open hand against Dean's abdomen, smearing it more, and Dean shoved at him with an amused snort.

"Shut up," he grumbled, and Benny grinned as Dean finally zipped up and stooped to pick up his blade.

"Let's go, bloodhound."


End file.
